


Been There, Done That

by osprey_archer



Series: Reciprocity Extras [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Hugs, Nightmares, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4127334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osprey_archer/pseuds/osprey_archer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a nightmare. Sam comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Been There, Done That

“Steve? Wake up, man, you’re having a nightmare.” 

Steve jerked awake. Sam’s living room seemed painfully bright; Sam had turned on the overhead light. “Sorry,” Steve mumbled, surreptitiously wiping drool from the corner of his mouth.

Sam sat in the armchair across from him. “Why are you sleeping on my couch?” Sam asked.

“Guest bed’s too soft,” Steve said glibly.

“The futon.” Sam sounded disbelieving, as well he might: the futon was probably firmer than the couch.

Steve plucked at the fringe on his blanket. He was sleeping on Sam’s couch because it was farther away from Sam’s room than the guest room, which meant he was less likely to wake Sam if he woke up screaming.

Although apparently it wasn’t far enough. Maybe he should try the hammock in the yard tomorrow night. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Sam said.

Steve let out a breath. It came out rough and shuddery, embarrassing. Steve put a hand over his eyes. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re a mess?” said Sam. “Steve, the night after Riley died, I pretty much drank everything on base. I think I drank a bottle of mouthwash straight, though my memory’s fuzzy by that point.”

“Bucky’s not dead,” Steve protested. But how could he be sure at this point? They’d been looking for months, ever since Steve got out of the hospital after the fall of the Triskelion, and found nothing.

“Missing, then. It’s still pretty sad, Steve. You’re allowed to have some bad moments.”

Steve let out another shuddery breath.

“Steve.” Sam’s voice was calm. “Can I give you a hug?”

“I’m fine,” Steve replied. “I don’t need – ”

“I’m not asking if you need a hug,” Sam said. “You want one?” Steve didn’t answer – couldn’t answer; and Sam said, “C’mon, man, let me hug you.”

“Okay.”

The sofa cushions compressed under Sam’s weight. He put his arms around Steve, and held him.

Steve had been worried that he would cry if Sam hugged him. But instead, he felt as if he could breathe for the first time that night, and he drew in a few deep breaths, filling his lungs.

“I just wanna point out,” Sam said, “a lot of people died on you when you went and took that seventy year nap. I think that gives you a pass to be sad whenever you feel like it.”

Steve let out a gasping laugh.

“Not that you need an excuse,” Sam added. “But I figured you’d feel better if you have one.”

Steve nodded.

Sam held him a while longer, then gave Steve’s back a couple of hard pats, like he was burping a baby. Then he sat back and looked in Steve’s face. “You feel better?”

“Yeah.” Steve moved down a little, so they were sitting side by side on the couch. “Mouthwash?” he said.

“Minty fresh. The smell still makes me sick.”

“That sucks, man.”

They sat side by side, companionable. “Want to see if we can find a crappy movie about giant spiders attacking the suburbs?” Sam asked. “Riley loved shit like that.”

“Movies about giant spiders?”

“Not just giant spiders. Giant spiders fight giant termites. Mutant sharks sneak on a cruise ship and hunt the passengers. Long frozen saber tooth tigers defrost and snack on campers.”

“Well,” said Steve. “Defrosted tigers. Guess I’ve gotta see that one. We’ll have so much in common.”

Sam tossed him the remote. “You see if you can rustle up a movie,” he said. “I’ll grab us some snacks.”


End file.
